


Utter a Soft Word, John

by SweetDevilMePlease



Series: Raising James [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adorable Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Smut, Implied Mpreg, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Nice John, Top John Watson, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:07:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetDevilMePlease/pseuds/SweetDevilMePlease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock couldn’t deny that John’s voice got incredibly sexy the lower it got. What would it be like to hear him speak so quiet in his ear in the most intimate of moments?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Utter a Soft Word, John

Sherlock paced around the room. It was nothing new to John, and he easily ignored the action. He hadn’t a clue what he was going on about this time. There was no case for the moment. Eventually, the taller man sat down, tapping his foot impatiently. The soft thud of his bare foot made John sigh softly.

“Good Gods, what is your problem today?” John asked, shutting down his laptop.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m fine.” Sherlock looked over John. “Come. Sit in front of me.”

                John sighed softly, but he stood, pulling up a chair in front of Sherlock, sitting in front of the man. “Yes?”

                Sherlock didn’t answer him. His eyes paused at his lips, staring at them. They weren’t chapped. There were no signs of him licking his lips recently. He didn’t use chapstick. His lips were naturally soft looking? Were they really as soft as they looked? He could have tested this theory with a finger, but instead he leaned in, pressing his lips to John’s briefly.

                John froze, eyes wide. What the bloody hell was he doing!? When Sherlock pulled away, he turned his head away, thinking aloud. Another experiment? Is he proving a point to himself? Of course he’s always proving a point. What point could he be trying to make clear?

“Utter a soft word, John,” Sherlock said, turning back to John. He had the most serious expression on his face, but the light dust of a blush surprised John more than finding the other’s lips on his did.

“What—?”

“Utter a soft word, John,” he repeated, but this time more firmly.

                John sat back in the chair, arms folded across his chest. “I’ve got nothing to say softly to you.”

                The blush on Sherlock’s face darkened, which let John know that there was more to his request. He wasn’t a genius like Sherlock was, but he could form an idea of why he’d be asking,  He shifted, leaning forward to hold on to the armrests of the other’s chair,  placing his left knee beside Sherlock. He leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of his ear. “You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” he murmured softly.

                Sherlock shivered, staring at the fabric in his view.  John’s voice was so sensual…He couldn’t help the arousal he felt just from his words. “Y-yes.” Did he just stutter? “I have in fact.” John’s lips brushed across the shell of his ear, and he shuddered again. John knew what he’s doing, Sherlock thought.  He swallowed thickly. “S-several times.”

                John was enjoying this, seeing the all confident Sherlock Holmes stutter and shudder underneath his simple actions. He brushed his thumb along his cheek, turning Sherlock’s face towards his. John kissed him, not just lips touching lips, no; it was a real kiss, in which Sherlock’s lips parted at the feel. The blush on his cheeks grew impossibly darker.

“Come with me, Sherlock,” he murmured against his lips, taking his hand.

                Sherlock was hesitant as John stood, still holding his hand. His partner gave him a hint of reassurance, and then he stood. John led him up to his bedroom. He was backed onto the bed.  He sat with his hands folded in his lap.

“Tell me what you think about,” John said, climbing on the bed.

                Sherlock swallowed. “You….You always speak so gentle to me, voice so low. I can’t help it. I find it so attractive. I…I can only imagine what it would sound like in—ngh!” John had taken to kissing and suckling on his neck, interrupting his statement.  “…in…person…”

                John began to pop buttons open, reveal soft pale skin. He took his time exploring the newly revealed skin. He noticed his left nipple was bruised, and John could tell it wasn’t over a day old.  John eased Sherlock down onto his back, pushing his shirt open more. He started at his neck, leaving a trail of hickies along his neck. Sherlock made a small sound of pleasure.

“John…” Sherlock breathed.

                John continued leave a trail of hickes down the center of his chest. Sherlock’s hands reached up pull on John’s hair, John giving a soft groan as he continued to leave bright red marks down to the waistband of his trousers. He slid his trousers down easily after unbuckling his belt. He rubbed gingerly at the clothed, hard cock he found there, watching as the taller man’s head turn to the side and a shiver ran down his spine. A low moan was drawn from his mouth as he was licked through his boxers. John was teasing him through the fabric, and it was driving Sherlock insane. He mewled lightly, pulling harder on John’s hair.

“Gods! John, more!”

                John smiled lightly, peeling away the now damp fabric and tossing them off to the side. He took Sherlock’s hard cock into his hand, pumping him slowly, taking his time. He rubbed his thumb across the tip of his cock, circling around the head, and driving the taller man into a pleasured frenzy, streams of various curses spilling from his lips.

“Y-you’re—ah!—you’re enjoying this…”

                John traced the large vein along his shaft with his thumbnail. “So are you, Sherlock.”

                Sherlock bit his lip as John kissed the head of his cock before he made his way up his body to his ear. “How’s this?” he asked softly, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. His warm breath tickled his ear as he spoke, and Sherlock couldn’t bring himself to any shame whatsoever as his cock leaked precum.  “Do you like it when I touch right here?”

                John’s voice was just as he pictured it, except lower, more caring and concerned about how he felt. It was brilliant; it was hot. Sherlock barely managed to utter a soft ‘Yes…’ John’s hand was more experienced than his own and it felt amazing. He reached up to grab at the sweater-vest John was wearing. He was over dressed for the situation. He was going to try to pull it off, but John stopped him.

“John..” He swallowed thickly. “I want this. I know you do too…”

                John chuckled. “Of course you know,” he said softly as he took Sherlock’s hand in his, placing it above his head.

                Sherlock sat up, bringing both of his arms around John’s neck. “Please give me this.” He brushed his lips along John’s neck, encouraging him further. His hands slipped under both his dress shirt and vest, pushing them upwards until John worked with him to get the items off. It was Sherlock’s turn, now, to let his hands roam. It was very clear he used to be in the army. Only signs that Sherlock (or his brother) could have picked up on. His long fingers, almost hesitantly, reached down to undo his belt and trousers. He was willing to go through this just to hear John speak softly in his ear? No, it wasn’t like he didn’t want this at all. That wasn’t the case. Sherlock had always had a fancy towards John, even if he implied several times that he considered himself married to his work. There was that raw side of him that wanted John to speak more than just soft words in his ear. John had stripped himself while Sherlock was stuck in thought of why he was _really_ doing this.

                Again, John’s lips were at his ear, speaking in just the right way. “Relax, Sherlock. Relax…” His hands kneaded his hips and the action was so comforting and it felt wonderful, that he felt his body responding to his action. “Yes, that’s it. Relax.”

                His brain was fuzzy with the comforting motion of the kneading of his hips combined with the pleasure he felt earlier. He didn’t process why he would need to relax at that moment. The sound of a top popping him open brought him back to the moment. _Oh_ that’s why. The sickening sweet smell of lubricant filled the room.  He closed his eyes when a slick hand wrapped around his shaft, pumping him slowly. His breath hitched slightly. Soft lips kissed along his jawline as a finger slowly worked its way into him. His natural reaction was to clamp down on the finger, but John was telling him to relax in such a way that made him do so. A soft sigh escaped him as John loosened him up.

“That’s it.”

                Sherlock blushed a dark shade of red as he was quickly reduced to noises. Another finger slid in, and this time it hurt, but John kept him relaxed.  Soon the pain was a burning pleasure that made him gasp and tilt his head back, a moan leaving him. John took the opportunity to shower down more kisses along his now exposed neck, leaving more hickies and lightly bitemarks on the soft flesh. Skilled fingers worked him loose and pulled him further into pleasure.

                John slowly pulled his fingers out, spreading Sherlock’s legs apart, rubbing his thighs lightly. Sherlock was a bit scared, yeah. Isn’t the first time always a bit scary? But he trusted John. John looked like the type of person who would be a rather wild lover, but so far, Sherlock has pieced together quite the opposite, and he was rather enjoying it. The bottle of lubricant was opened again.  John added the lotion on his cock as he pumped himself. He smeared extra at Sherlock’s entrance, and the taller man felt just a tad bit insecure exposed like he was.  Gently, John guided himself in, stopping when Sherlock tensed and clamped down.

“Relax,” he breathed huskily in the male’s ear, “Let me in, Sherlock. Relax.”

                A shudder ran down Sherlock’s spine. _God_ _that voice_ was something to listen to. He relaxed slowly. As he did, John continued to ease his way in. Finally in all the way, he gave the man time to adjust. John combed his fingers through the mess of soft brown curls, surprised at how much the action relaxed him. Sherlock’s eyes closed slowly, and he gave a nod. John murmured “Stay relaxed,” over and over as he slowly slid out and eased back in until he was used to the feeling.

“J-John~ I…I can take it. Please, harder!”

                John leaned down, and Sherlock’s parted instantly. He smiled and kissed him, placing his elbows beside either side of Sherlock’s head, pressing into his shoulders to give him more leverage. The taller man arched up into his body, moaning loudly into the kiss. John deepened the kiss along with his thrust, further driving his partner mad—but in a good way.

“J-John! John! John!” Sherlock cried out, wrapping his arms around John’s neck and he legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Right there! Right—“ John silenced him with another kiss.

                John brought Sherlock into each of his thrusts, holding that angle to hit that bundle of nerves that was making Sherlock fall apart under his body.

“That’s it—ha! Sherlock, you feel so nice! Good, rock your hips up like that.”

                This thrill was nothing like the thrill he got working on a case, putting his life in danger in order to cure a little boredom. No, this thrill was more. He loved this more. It made him feel amazing. John was murmuring to him again, nothing that made sense, and for once, Sherlock didn’t try to make sense of anything. His mind was too foggy for that. He could only think that John was as close as he was.  Whether or not John knew it or not, but everything he’d said was exactly what he imagined during late night wanks before going back to bed. Everything except—

“Come, Sherlock. Come for me,” John purred, hand reaching down to pump Sherlock’s forgotten cock.

                The extra stimulation sent him over the edge with a stream of curses, moans, and of course, John’s name. Hips bucking wildly as he rode out his orgasm, he clawed at John’s back, leaving small scratches that bled a little.

“Good boy. That’s it…” John groaned.

                Sherlock panted, continuing to claw. He managed to make John look at him, catching him right when he came. A soft sound came from Sherlock as he was filled with John’s seed. The ex-soldier rolled onto the bed, pulling the other on top of him, pulling out. Sherlock shuddered.

“T-that…That was the most—“ Sherlock didn’t have words to describe it.

“I’m not as dirty as I look,” John said with a smile, understanding what he wanted to say.

                For once, Sherlock couldn’t read John like usual, his brain still fuzzy from such a phenomenal orgasm. John combed his fingers through the mop of curls on Sherlock’s head, the man relaxing and sighing softly from the feeling.

“John—“

“Don’t speak. Just sleep. Don’t argue with me. Sleep..”

                That didn’t seem like a bad idea at the moment. Sherlock closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of John’s fingers through his hair combined with the lull of his heartbeat. Aaaaaand…..he was out, sleeping soundly on John’s chest. John chuckled softly, brushing curls from the sleeping man’s face.

“Sleep well, Sherlock….”

                John slipped from underneath Sherlock, careful not to wake him. He put his clothes back, hunting down his shoes. He picked up his wallet, placing it in his back pocket. They needed groceries, and this was the best time to get them. He pulled the blanket over Sherlock, watching as he slept calmly. He made his way downstairs when he came across Mrs. Hudson.

“John! How are you?”

“I’m well, Mrs. Hudson. If you don’t mind my request, please leave Sherlock be until I get back. If anyone comes with a case, please kindly let them go.”

“ I will. What got him to lay down early?” she wondered aloud.

                John smiled. “He had….other things on his mind.”

                With that he left their flat in order to go shopping.

 

 

                Sherlock was unable to keep anything down the few mornings. He’d spent more time bent over the toilet than doing his normal thing. Anytime he’d try to do his normal routine, he’d end up having to run back to the toilet. Oh, he was absolutely _miserable._ John came in with a cold, wet wash cloth. Sherlock was on the verge of crying, his stomach hurt so bad. John tilted Sherlock’s head back, placing the wash cloth on his forehead.

“Sh, sh, sh. It’s okay,” John said softly, combing his fingers through his soft brunette hair. He picked up another wash cloth and wiped Sherlock’s mouth. “You’re alright.”

                Sherlock laid his head on John’s shoulder. Wrong motion. Another wave nausea hit. John caught the wash cloth as Sherlock sat up to throw up again. A whining noise came from the man. John sighed softly.

“Come on. Back to bed with you.” John help Sherlock up slowly. He led him back to bed. “What’s wrong?”

“I….I don’t know.” Sherlock closed his eyes as he thought. He put pieces together. He’d gained at least ten pounds in almost a week, he was sick, and his stomach—

                The look on his face told John he figured it out. He pulled up a chair beside the bed. “What’s wrong, Sherlock?”

                Sherlock  turned to look at John. He slowly shook his head. “You’re not going to believe me when I tell you.” John snorted, but the man had his attention. “There’s no other reasonable explanation for any of this….John….I’m pregnant.”

                John blinked repeatedly, tilting his head. “Wha….What?” Clearly, he didn’t hear that right.

“I’m pregnant, John.”

                John nodded once, licking his lips. Yeah, he heard him right. Didn’t mean he believed him right away, which was perfectly acceptable for Sherlock. He himself didn’t believe it. He had to prove it. He moved to sit up, but another wave of nausea threatened him, and he lay back down. Okay, he’d do that after a nap. John felt it was necessary to sit on the other side of the bed and lay down beside him. Sherlock shifted slowly so he was on his side, back to John. He pressed against the shorter man, spooning. He closed his eyes, groaning softly. John put an arm around Sherlock, rubbing his stomach lightly.


End file.
